Kiss Me with the Lights Down Low
by chalantness
Summary: (562): I told him if he ever gets a "wink" text from me after 10:00pm to assume I really mean "we should be hooking up by 2:30am" — Texts From Last Night


**Title: **_Kiss Me with the Lights Down Low**  
**_**Pairing:** Dick/Zatanna  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** ~2,700  
**Summary: **(562): I told him if he ever gets a "wink" text from me after 10:00pm to assume I really mean "we should be hooking up by 2:30am" — Texts From Last Night

**Kiss Me with the Lights Down Low  
**

So, she doesn't really know what this thing with Dick is.

They just can't do the whole dating charade, mostly because they're both kind of too independent for each other, or at least pretend. Dick's almost a lone wolf type of a guy even though he's part of a team, which she sometimes gets but doesn't really. She knows he feels responsible for everyone and keeps them at a distance and on this stupid need-to-know basis because he doesn't want to cause trouble or whatever, but she's always, always been this sort of believer in a support system. It seems almost hypocritical, because she was sort of on crazy about not needing anybody's help or anything after the whole Fate deal with her father, but still. She just thinks that someone should never truly have to be alone.

Well, whatever, she and Dick didn't like, argue over petty things or anything like that during the few weeks that they considered themselves dating. They were just at two really tough points at their lives and not at all on the same pages and it just seemed a lot safer if they stayed friends.

But she _does_ love him, and would do anything for him. Sometimes it involves a spell or a word of advice. Sometimes it involves them having crazy, passionate sex and then sharing a home-cooked meal (she does the cooking) and a few hours of familiar company, which may or may not involve a little more sex or maybe a movie or two, depending.

It's a weird relationship they have.

(And she's torn between liking what they have and maybe, possibly, wanting a little more.)

Anyway, she's only a little buzzed when she finds herself pulling up Dick's contact and drafting a text message. She only agreed to go clubbing with her co-workers tonight because it's her first night in a while that she's had free and she figured it couldn't help. But she lost all of them within twenty-five minutes of arriving at the club, and really, even if she _was_ the type to flirt with strangers and let them buy her drinks (which she's _not_), no one in this room seems worth it. And she's kind of tired of people trying to pull her onto the dance floor.

She sips her drink, retypes the message twice before finally hitting send, then slips her phone back into her clutch and strikes up a conversation with the bartender because he actually has some interesting comments, and he tells guys to leave her alone when they clearly won't take the hint from her.

It's a little before 2:00 in the morning – meaning she's been out for almost three hours now – when someone drops a few bills onto the counter by her hand and asks, "Is this enough to pay for her tab?"

"Dick," she laughs, because honestly, it's not like she text him to get out of paying.

He smirks a little and holds up his phone. "I got your wink face and figured I might as well check up on you."

"You traced my number?" He shrugs. "Of course you did."

"Was I wrong to?"

"No," she says, maybe a little too quickly considering how both Dick and the bartender laugh at her. "Can we get out of here?" she asks, and he just grins and nods. She gives the bartender a smile, thanks him for hanging out with her tonight and then lets Dick place a steady hand over her waist as she gets to her feet.

... ...

Dick makes her drink three glasses of water as soon as they've gotten to his apartment, so she stays hydrated and won't wake up with a massive hangover in the morning, and now she's just sitting on the countertop with her legs crossed at the ankles and a bar of dark chocolate in hand that she got from Dick's pantry. He's leaning against the kitchen island across from her, and neither of them has really said anything to each other since he came to get her at the bar. Actually, they haven't so much as touched each other since he steadied her with a hand on her waist, but she knows that look on his face and it's really only a matter of minutes before he does something about it.

She breaks off another square of chocolate, pushes it passed her lips and watches as Dick gets this _smile_ on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says. She arches an eyebrow. "I just… really want to kiss you right now."

"Oh," she breathes, because really, there's not much else for her to say. He smiles a little more and holds her stare as he takes another sip of his wine. She licks the melted chocolate from her fingers and Dick makes this soft, barely there sound that she still hears. She laughs a little. "What now?"

"You're doing that on purpose."

"Maybe," she replies. He shakes his head and takes another sip of wine. "Are you going to do something about it?"

He doesn't answer, just takes a few steps forward until he's standing between her legs with her knees resting against his hips. He sets his wine glass down on the counter at the same time she puts down the dark chocolate bar, slides both hands over her knees and mumbles, "I'm going to kiss you." She nods a little frantically, but can't really find it in her to care because then his lips are over hers and his thumbs are pressing into her skin and she parts her lips, the bittersweet taste of dark chocolate and wine against her tongue.

She crosses her ankles over the small of his back, grasps the material of his shirt with one hand and pushes the other into his hair and tugs him closer. Her little navy blue dress was short enough as it is, but the motion pushes the hem of it higher up her legs until it's basically bunched around her waist and making her panties visible with the way her legs are spread.

"Bed?" he breathes against her lips, and maybe she's imagining things, but his voice sounds strained, almost desperate, really. She's never heard him sound like that before and wonders, somewhere in the back of her mind, what that's supposed to mean.

"Here," she says, tugging him a little closer. "Please tell me you have a—"

He mutters, "Yeah," before cutting her off with another kiss, a little deeper and a little dirtier than the ones before, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her off of the countertop. She grinds her hips a bit and he groans and almost –_ almost_ – stumbles, which makes her let out this breathless laugh. "Shut up," he chuckles.

"Make me," she counters, laughing a little more until his lips are on her throat and she's moaning softly.

He turns them around and sets her onto the kitchen island, brings their lips back together. He drops his free hand to her knee again, slides his hand along her thigh and underneath the material of her dress until his fingers are skimming the waistband of her panties. She reaches between them and starts undoing his belt buckle, but he grasps her wrist and she pulls away, confused. He kisses her once, twice, presses their foreheads and says, "Lay back," against her lips, gently pushing against her abs to get her to do so.

"Dick—"

"That comes later," he says, and – despite the fact that he always, _always_ manages to work a joke like that into what little conversation they share when they're doing this – she still laughs at that. Then he places his hand against her cheek and kisses her gently, in a way that seems so… so _intimate_ that it makes her whimper. "Lay back," he says again.

She takes her lower lip between her teeth as she nods, lies back against the cold marble countertop and makes this noise from the back of her throat as he nudges her legs apart. It'd be embarrassing, how wet she is, if she were with anyone else. Of course, she's never, ever, been this wet for anyone else before.

She's not drunk enough to let that slip out, though.

He closes his lips over the front of her panties and she shifts her hips upward a little, lets out this breathy sound. He tugs on the waistband of her panties and she lifts her hips a little, brings her legs together just enough so he can pull them off.

He blows gently against her sex and she gasps and rolls her hips up, or at least tries to with the way his hand is pressing her hips down. The other hand is pushing her legs further apart, spreading her a little wider again as she pushes her fingers into his hair. Then he licks a slow line up through her folds, stopping right before he reaches her clit, and she rolls her head to the side and tightens her grip on his hair. He repeats this path and runs the tip of his tongue beside her nerves before closing his lips around it, making her gasp and snap her hips up, almost in surprise. He pushes his tongue inside her, thrusting a few times and drawing these uneven pants, before flattening against her.

"Dick," she breathes, tugging on his hair as he continues rolling his tongue against her.

"I miss tasting you, 'Tanna."

She whimpers at his voice, low and gruff and almost strained, as if _he's_ almost pathetically as close to coming as she is. Her mind is kind of buzzed from the alcohol and pleasure, so she doesn't really know what he's talking about at first. Then she remembers that this is the first time in almost three weeks since they've seen each other.

_Fuck_, somehow that makes her even wetter.

When she comes, his tongue is working against her nerves and his thumb is smoothing over her hip and she's scraping her fingertips lightly over his scalp. He continues lapping at her after she's begun to calm down, making her thigh tremble every time the tip of his tongue rubs against her clit.

"Dick," she gasps. "Dick, I…"

"I know." He licks a stripe up her center, flattens his tongue against her clit and makes her hips jolt. "Again, 'Tanna. I love watching you fall apart."

She _moans_, mutters, "I need you so much," and can't even like, hate herself for letting that slip because then he's working his tongue hard against her and she's coming for a second time, more intensely than the first with her back arching and his name practically being chanted from her lips. She pushes his head away before he can do something like bring her to a third orgasm in a row, because he always seems to have a problem stopping once he's started, and like, she wouldn't be against it but she needs to stop to _breathe_ for a minute.

Once she's finally calm enough, she lifts herself up on her elbows and shifts so she's sitting upright again.

And it's crazy, really, that she's just had two orgasms but feels herself getting wet again as soon as she meets Dick's eyes and finds him _staring_ at her, like he just can't help himself. She reaches forward, grasps his shirt and tugs him closer so that she can grasp the front of his jeans and start to undo his belt buckle.

"Condom," she breathes, because she needs him like, _now_. He nods, reaches behind him and fumbles for the knob of a drawer before pulling it open, rummages inside until he produces a square packet. She arches an eyebrow and he shrugs cutely.

"I like being prepared."

She laughs breathlessly and finally gets his jeans undone, pushing it down and licking her lips a little at the sound it makes as it hits the floor. She takes the packet from his hand and pushes him down so he's sitting in front of her on a barstool, making him groan lowly as she rolls the condom slowly over his length. In the back of her head, she hopes that these barstools are as sturdy as they were expensive since it's pretty much a given that they're going to have sex on this one in a matter of seconds. Dick pulls her wrists so that her arms are around his neck and kisses her, _hard_, as he grasps her hips and lowers her onto his length. She gasps, digs her nails into his biceps and grinds her hips a little.

"_Fuck_," she mutters.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," he chuckles breathlessly. "You feel _amazing_."

He thrusts up and her lips part in a little mewl, rolling her hips down to meet his thrusts. They're slow and deep at first, and when she shifts a little and causes him to thrust up in a different angle that grazes her spot, she tips her head back in a cry of pleasure. She grinds down again, circles her hips a little in a way that makes them both moan.

"You're so beautiful, 'Tanna." He steadies a hand against her thigh, brings his free hand over the back of her neck and kisses her deeply. "I'm so close already."

Yeah, she knows. She can feel how hard he is.

And she's the only one moving right now, but she doesn't really care because it feels _incredible_. Her movements are quick and a little clumsy because of their position, but she feels so much of him and judging by the way he keeps muttering curses and groaning out her name, it must feel good for him, too.

Then she feels his thumb rub against her clit and she basically claws at his chest, her thigh trembling against his palm. He dips his thumb into her wetness a little before bringing it back up to her nerves, circling over them and making her hips snap, the both of them moaning. Then he presses his thumb over her clit and she practically screams his name, tossing her head back as she lets go for the third time. She can feel herself fluttering around him, and he's coming only seconds after her, nipping hungrily at the skin of her neck.

They're both breathing heavily and unevenly as they come down from their orgasms, his thumb lazily smoothing over her hipbone. She has her eyes closed, making soft noises at the light kisses he's placing against her throat and ignoring the fact that, eventually (probably sooner than later), they're going to have to move.

"I missed you," she says, after what feels like forever. He kisses her skin one last time before pulling away a little and meeting her eyes.

"You missed the sex, huh?"

He's teasing her, she knows, but she still shakes her head. "No. Well, _yeah_, I did. But," she trails off a little, pushes her fingers into his hair and leans forward to press their foreheads together. "I missed _you_ more."

He _smiles_ at her, kisses her gently and says, "Me too."

... ...

They have breakfast at this amazing diner across the street from his apartment complex, after they both showered and she changed into a pair of leggings and a purple blouse that she'd left the last time she'd been with him. They've had breakfast at this diner before, but this is the first morning that neither of them have had anywhere to be and, instead of coming in a little after dawn to share a quick twenty-minute breakfast together as they usually do, they sort of stayed in bed, had a little more sex and took their time. When they finally decided they were hungry, it was almost 10:00.

He walks with her to the nearest zeta tube at around noon, because she has a meeting at the Watchtower and he has to zeta back to Gotham to talk with Bruce, and she promised to text him later when she was free to meet up again. He kisses her on the cheek and gives her this smile when he says he'll see her soon, and only a few minutes after she zetas back to her street and makes her way up to her apartment, her screen lights up with a text from Dick.

It's a wink face.


End file.
